Daryl Dixon's Diary
by bestprayimdead
Summary: Carl finds Daryl's diary and gives it to Carol. But what did Dixon write in it? 'Maybe, for the first time ever, Carl's curiosity actually came off as useful.'


**Hi, guys! Char here, this is my first TWD fanfic :) More precisely, my first CarDar fanfic :D (I know most people call them Caryl, but it doesn't differ enough from ''Carol'', so I though CarDar was cuter). I actually wrote this as for tumblr (as requested by normanreeduslover333). I hope you guys like it!**

Dixon's Diary

It was a day as any other. Hershel's farm was now long gone. It'd been about 3 months since it was overrun by a huge herd of walkers. Ever since then, the group has been living day by day, more so - hour by hour. They never stayed long in the same place, cautious of getting overrun again. They'd lost Patricia, Jimmy and Andrea, but now they were a lot stronger, fending off at least 10 walkers a day. They were now held up at a house in the middle of nowhere. The house had two floors, and an attic, where the younger Dixon brother had been keeping watch that night. They needed some good rest and Daryl was willing to be the one to make sure nothing goes wrong. He had been restlessly circling around the attic, window to window, looking out for walkers.

Carl Grimes still had Daryl's gun. Carl was aware it wasn't his to take and he knew he made a mistake by stealing it. So Carl decided to sneak out and put the gun back in Daryl's motorbike. As he went out, he made sure no one could hear or see him. He checked nearby places for any unexpected walker surprises and, when he didn't find anything, ran hurriedly over to Dixon's bike. He opened one of the pockets on it and slipped the gun back in it without any hesitation. But something caught his eye. It was a small notebook, with brown leather covers. Carl wouldn't have been Carl if he'd have not pulled it out and curiously opened it. The first page had nothing written on it, but when he ran his fingers over the bulgings on it, he knew that every other had been completely filled with words. Carl grimaced as he started flipping through the pages, confused by what he saw. He shrugged it off and walked back to the house, wanting to get a better look at it. He would put it back before anyone noticed.

As Carl walked back into the house, sneaking on his tip-toes, he silently closed the door behind him. But when he turned around, he was greeted by a pair of worried blue eyes.

''Carl, what were you doing outside?!'' Carol's shaky voice demanded.

''I was putting Daryl's gun back into his motorbike.''

''And what is this?'' Carol pointed to the small leather-covered notebook.

''I found it in one of the pockets.'' Carl admitted.

''Oh, Carl, you know you're not supposed to touch other people's things.'' Carol took the notebook out from his hands. ''Go find your mom, I think she's upstairs in the room on the left. You can't just wander off like that. You have to be careful, Carl.''

''I _was_ being careful.'' Carl mumbled as he dragged his tired body up the stairs.

Carol went inside the abandoned kitchen, where the group had left all their supplies and backpacks. She unconsciously set the notebook on the counter and began rummaging through her backpack to find a bottle of water. Heavy footsteps quietly approached her and joined her presence in the kitchen.

''Hey, Carol, have you seen my backpack?'' Rick asked as he was not able to distinguish them in the dark, especially being so tired. Carol smiled and bent down to pick it up, then handed it over to him.

''Thanks.''

''You should go get some rest. You've worked very hard today, you deserve some sleep. Daryl's taking good care of us, don't worry.''

''Yeah, I trust him. I'm just finding it a bit hard to sleep these days.''

''Well, wash your face and get warm when you go to sleep. I saw some blankets in that closet in the hallway. It should help.'' Carol smiled one of those motherly grins and headed back upstairs.

''Carol, this yours?'' Rick asked, picking up Daryl's notebook which Carol had left on the counter.

''Yes.'' she took it. ''Thanks, Rick. Goodnight.''

''Night.''

Carol went upstairs and straight into the darkened room, where Lori had already been asleep. Carl lay next to her, his eyes closed and his breathing heavy, so Carol assumed he was asleep as well. She quietly sat on the other bed and opened the notebook she'd been carrying. As she went through the pages, she gasped, not able to hold back her surprise. There were about a hundred pages in the notebook, all with words ''I love her'' written three times in every row. The whole notebook was filled with it, no spaces left anywhere. Was this Daryl's diary? Was it a journal? Was it just a notebook he scrambled in when he was bored? Was it even his? Carol believed there was a slim chance he might have just found it somewhere, but even if that was the case, why would he keep it? There was only one way to find out.

* * *

Daryl Dixon was pacing around the attic, walking from window to window. He didn't like the idea that he would have to do this for another 6 hours or so, let alone be ready to move on and drive afterwards. But he had to do it, for the group's sake. He saw what bad shape Rick was in. He was walking around, exhausted, looking as if he'd pass out. Hell, if Daryl were 10 feet away from him, he would have mistaken him for a walker. He knew Rick just needed some rest, after all he'd done to keep this group safe and sound, which is why he took on the watch that night.

He was a bit surprised when he heard light footsteps coming into his area of sight. It was Carol, wearing that comforting smile on her lips as always. He'd secretly admired this woman, all her strength. After everything she's been through, she was still managing to keep that beautiful smile and make everyone feel a lot better. She was like a mother to all of them, always there when any one of them was feeling down.

''Hi.'' she mumbled, her hands crossed.

''Hey, watcha doin' up here? Y'all should be sleepin'.''

''I just came to check on you. And I wanted to ask you something.''

''Yeah? An' that is?''

''Is this yours?'' Carol pulled out a small leather notebook from her back jean pocket and handed it over to him.

''Where the hell'd you get this?'' he angrily snatched it away.

''Carl.''

''That little fucker went snooping 'round my stuff again?'' Daryl asked. ''Did you... read it?''

Carol nodded and watched the younger Dixon brother gulp down his fear. He'd never intended for anyone to see this, especially her. He knew how crazy it must've looked to her. Thankfully, she didn't know that she was the one he wrote it for. Yes, Daryl Dixon, the tough badass with a crossbow. The guy with no feelings, yet he has a notebook that states something entirely different. He'd found the notebook back at Hershel's farm, and took it as his own. He needed to let his feelings out any way he could think of, and this was the easiest, so he spent one whole night writing in it. The night after they found Sophia.

He regretted not throwing this away sooner, but maybe... Maybe there was a part of him that wanted Carol to see this. He didn't really know why, but he felt like he was choking every day. All those feelings were welling up inside him and he never told anyone about them. He kept them inside and they had him turning sides every night. He wasn't able to sleep or to think straight. He wanted to let those feelings out but he had no idea how. Which was the main reason he wrote ''I love her'' a thousand times in that small notebook.

''Why did you write that?'' Carol asked, interrupting his thoughts. He had absolutely no idea what to do.

''Does it matter?''

''Yes, it matters, Daryl. What's going on?'' Carol questioned, watching him move around to a window and carefully look out. He flinched when she said his name.

''Nothin'. I'm fine.'' he said, taking a deep breath as if to prevent any of his feelings from getting out.

''You're not fine, Daryl. I can see that-''

''Can you stop saying my name?'' he interrupted.

''Why? You don't like your name now?''

''No, I just... Forget it.''

''You can't keep to yourself like this. It's only doing you harm. You know you can tell me anything that's bothering you.''

''Not this.''

''And why is that?'' Carol asked curiously, as she'd already started to realize the answer herself. Daryl sighed quietly and looked away, walking to the other window.

''Can you leave me alone?'' Daryl demanded.

''No.''

Sighing, he turned around and looked at her. It was her job, doing this. She never let any of them feel down. When she saw someone had a problem, Carol was always there to listen and help. Maybe it would be good if he let her know how he felt. He knew that even if... Even if it didn't work out the way he wanted it to, she wouldn't hate him. She was too good of a person, and he knew she would still act the same way towards him. He didn't have anything to lose. But he was still afraid.

''Carol, I don't think I can tell you. It's persona-''

''It's me?'' she caught him off-guard. ''It's me you wrote that about, isn't it?''

Daryl stared at her, shock in his eyes. He had no idea what to say or do, and when he didn't respond, Carol walked up to him.

''Why?''

''I'm sorry, Carol. I wasn't thinkin' straight.'' Daryl apologized, stepping back. ''Don't... Please, don't pull away from me now.''

''I won't, Daryl.'' she said, causing shivers to run up his spine when he heard his name escape her lips.

''Why didn't you tell me before?'' she pushed.

''I don't know.''

''Well...'' she started, smiling sweetly at him. ''It's good I know now. Maybe we could.. Work something out of this, one day.''

Just before Carol turned to leave, she leaned in closer to him and pecked his cheek ever so lightly, so much as he could barely feel it. A small smile sneaked upon his lips as he watched her go down the stairs. Maybe, for the first time ever, Carl's curiosity actually came off as useful.

**Please, leave a review? :) Want me to write more chapters to this or leave it as a one-shot? Btw, working on another CarDar story :)**

**-Charlotte**


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